


Lingering

by Dragon_Lord



Category: Zoo (TV)
Genre: F/M, I mean he didn't technically die but, Mentions of canon character "death", Minor Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 15:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11421288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Lord/pseuds/Dragon_Lord
Summary: And so, it began. For the next solid week, Jamie took care of him as he re-learned what it was to be alive.





	Lingering

**Author's Note:**

> Whaat? I wrote a story that actually takes place in the canon Zoo universe?? I know, I was surprised, too.  
> But fear not! The high school series is not over! I have more installments planned out!  
> For now, enjoy this slightly angsty one-shot that I wrote in three hours b/c I wanted to post it before the next episode.

Jamie took it upon herself to make sure Mitch was well looked-after once he was back on the plane with them, where he belonged. No one argued. Most of them were there for her breakdown three years ago, when yet another attempt to save Mitch had fallen flat, and when she’d been forced to accept that he was really dead.

Well, not so dead after all, it seemed.

Perhaps it was the guilt that motivated her. Guilt that she hadn’t saved him ten years ago. Guilt that it took her that long to find him again. Guilt that she’d given up. She was eating herself up on the inside and being there for Mitch now was the only way to silence that little voice in her head, the one that whispered _“You could’ve saved him.”_ So for a long time, she barely let him out of her sight.

He got the room right next to hers on the plane, and that was her doing, even if she didn’t say so. It was her plane, dammit. She could put people where she wanted and no one could say anything.

The room was fully equipped with everything he might need: clothes, shampoo, an electric razor, and more pillows and blankets than could fit on the full-size bed. Not to mention, she finally had his old glasses fixed. He seemed surprised to see them again, like he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be able to see clearly, and Jamie briefly wanted to strangle those IADG men for not taking care of him.

She lingered just a little too long in the doorway, watching him get settled, unsure of how to help.

“The shower’s just through there,” she said, gesturing to the door near the bed before mentally kicking herself. “You know that already, I’m sure you remember that. Um, extra clothes are in the dresser. All in your size, I made sure.”

He didn’t say anything, just nodded awkwardly. He still hadn’t talked much since he came back, but no one wanted to push him, least of all her. After all, the man had been dead for ten years. One needed time to get over that sort of thing.

“Yeah,” she continued, starting to back out. “So, I’ll leave you to it.”

He didn’t stop her, and she closed the door quietly, leaned against the wall next to it. It had been so long, but she could still remember the very last time she saw him, leaving that lab in Pangea, thinking he’d be right behind them only minutes later. She remembered the exact look on his face. There’d been something in his eyes that made her look back. Did he know, then? She’d wondered so many times, so many nights spent alone, thinking back to what she could’ve done to save him, if only she’d known what he planned to do.

She pushed herself upright, shaking off those thoughts. It wouldn’t help anyone if she got lost in the past now. Now, she had a plane to run.

\---

It had been tough, resisting the urge to check in on him at all hours of the night, just to make sure he was still there and this wasn’t all some cruel dream brought on by her sadistic subconscious. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time she’d woken up, expecting to see him safe and sound, only to be faced with the grim reality of solitude.

She was the first one up the next morning, determined to fix him a good breakfast. She doubted his captors had fed him very well, and he looked woefully skinny in the spare IADG uniform he’d been wearing the day before.

Breakfast wasn’t exactly her strong suit, cooking-wise, but Mitch ate it anyway.

And so, it began. For the next solid week, Jamie took care of him as he re-learned what it was to be alive. She didn’t fix all the meals, she left that to those more suited for the job. But she was always there to make sure Mitch ate it all.

During the day, she passed by the lab as often as she could. It was comforting for both of them, she realized. He found himself in his work again, and she watched him come back to life right before her eyes. It was incredible, really, how much he looked like his old self in the lab, solving puzzles like he always liked to do. It made her wonder, not for the first time, how she’d managed to get through those ten years without him.

She hadn’t yet brought up the subject of their relationship, again not wanting to rush him. She didn’t mention that one of the last times they’d seen each other, he’d asked her to go to Maine with him. She didn’t tell him that as soon as she found out that he’d died, all she could think about was that she’d never told him how much she cared about him. She definitely didn’t bring up that wonderfully disastrous kiss, before their plane crash. It felt like several lifetimes ago. Maybe it was.

But even so, something unspoken still lingered between them. Something soft and vulnerable. They shared looks that said more than words ever could, and somehow, Jamie was content with that, at least for the time being.

It wasn’t until the end of the first week that something changed.

\---

He kissed her exactly like she remembered. His lips were full with a subdued passion, slow and burning, and without the taste of vodka blurring her senses. Jamie couldn’t remember the last time she’d so hungered for a kiss.

They’d both been hesitant at first, afraid to repeat their unlucky track record of kissing in airplanes, but the desire won over soon enough, and Jamie sensed that he was ready for this, that he _needed_ this. They both did. She pulled him closer, siphoning the heat from his body, and feeling the years of loneliness melt away at his touch.

Jamie forgot that she was ticklish until his stubble scratched at her skin. She let out a breathless giggle and felt his lips curl into a smile against her neck. That was something else she’d missed. Those rare glimpses of a genuine smile, not his usual smirk. He wore happiness beautifully.

Growing impatient, her fingers grasped at his shirt, and he obliged, pulling away from her for just a moment to tug it off and throw it across the room.

She stopped.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Even in the dim light of the bedroom, Jamie could see the scars that marred his torso. They weren’t fresh by any stretch of the imagination, and if she had to guess, she’d say they were about ten years old. The hybrids. These were what killed him, _nearly_ killed him.

She reached out with a shaky hand to trace the length of one that must’ve been particularly deep, twisting across his stomach on a winding path up his side. The skin under her fingers jumped at the touch.

“What did those things do to you?” she murmured. Awful mental images came to mind of him being attacked by those monsters, torn apart, and she felt a dampness on her cheeks that she knew to be tears. Mitch reached up with one hand to swipe them away, pulling her gaze back to his.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m okay. Barely felt it.”

They both knew it was a lie.

He pulled her in for another soft kiss, and Jamie leaned into it, eyes shut tight. She rested her forehead against his.

“I wanted to go back,” she said. “I didn’t want to leave you behind, but—”

“I know. But it was my choice to stay. If I hadn’t, you would’ve never made it out.” He stroked her cheek gently. “It’s okay.”

“I thought I was supposed to be comforting you,” she whispered, “not the other way around.”

Mitch huffed out a laugh. “When have we ever done things the right way around?”

He leaned against the headboard, pulling her back with him, and she tucked her head into his neck. He still smelled the same. A combination of whiskey, and some chemical that he used in the lab, along with his natural musk. Home. She felt her eyelids drooping.

“Thank you,” she heard him mutter right before she drifted off, “for saving me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please review!


End file.
